Circuit
by generalsleepy
Summary: In the carrying out of a sabotage operation, Hogan and Kinch are captured by the SS. Hogan is tortured in an attempt to extract information from Kinch. Only the connection, the closed circuit, between the two of them can help them survive. (Light Hogan/Kinch)


Hogan's scream rattled through Kinch's body. Agonizing seconds stretched by, and then the wail was replaced with ragged panting.

"The location of the explosives."

 _The Bridge. 11:00 PM._

"No."

The SS man sighed. "This is growing more and more tiring. You are going to divulge the location of the explosives eventually. Why insist on unnecessarily dragging out the process?"

Hogan barely managed his usual crooked smile. "If you're feeling tired, I wouldn't hold it against you if we take a quick break: I won't tell Heinrich if you don't."

Kinch gritted his teeth. On the one hand, the fact that Hogan could still quip meant that he still had his wits about him. On the other hand, _just for once, Rob, shut up._

There were three SS men in the cell along with Hogan and Kinch. One stood in front of a table with his hands on the controls of a large battery. The other moved an electrode attached to a wooden handle over Hogan's body so electricity would arc between it and the wire wrapped around his chest. The leader (Hauptsturmführer, if Kinch remembered SS insignias correctly) stood to the side, orchestrating the scene.

Kinch bit back the urge to appeal to their humanity. These were Nazis: there was no humanity there to appeal to. A regular German soldier might be persuaded to put conscience above country. With an SS or Gestapo officer, though, it was about as useful as trying to reason with a wild animal.

It felt like an eternity, but logically Kinch knew it was probably closer to an hour since they had been captured and brought into this room. They were first beaten bloody, then Hogan was tied to a metal chair. Watching Hogan's body contort, hearing him scream in agony was hell—though he was sure Hogan was going through much worse. He'd already vomited from the pain and his muscles twitched even between shocks.

Kinch desperately wanted to divulge the location of the explosives. He couldn't keep watching Hogan be tortured like this.

But, he also knew that ruining the sabotage operation wasn't an option. If they successfully blew up the bridge, they would be denying the Germans in France vital supplies, giving the guys on the front a crucial advantage. The lives of two men didn't begin to stack up against that.

But. But. God, he needed to make this stop. He could lie, if only, to stop the torture. However, the Nazis would certainly kill both of them the moment they thought they had outlived their usefulness. Additionally, if it turned out that they could already disprove his claim, the torment would only continue—maybe worsen, if that was even possible. The question was at what point it stopped being worth it to keep trying to survive, and made more sense to instead look for a good death.

Of course, Hogan would say that that point would never come. He would be willing to die in service to the cause. He would take a bullet for his friends or to defend truth, justice, and freedom. He would never accept the idea of death as a means to escape pain.

Kinch, well… He'd always been the more practical of the two of them.

The electrode was taken away. Hogan continued to twitch and gasp. There was a fresh electrical burn on his neck, and the skin under the wire was smoking faintly. His eyes were shut tight.

"The location of the explosives." There was no trace of emotion in the Captain's voice.

All that Kinch could manage was to shake his head.

Hogan opened his eyes and met Kinch's gaze. "Don't tell them anything," he said. His voice was shook, but his tone was steady. "You won't help me. You won't help anyone. Promise me."

"I won't." Kinch swallowed the hot lump in his throat. "Rob, I—"

"Scharführer."

The man pressed the electrode to Hogan's groin. Hogan's scream bounced off the walls. Kinch dug his fingernails into his palms. He didn't shut his eyes, knowing that would only provoke the SS captain further. So, he watched helplessly, uselessly, his stomach churning as he watched Hogan be tortured.

He wondered if—he hoped that—eventually the men would switch their places, so Kinch was the one with electricity coursing through his body. He knew that wish was selfish, though. Hogan would almost certainly hate to watch Kinch suffer, as much as Kinch hated his own current position.

It was hell. It was all a living hell. Kinch didn't think he'd ever felt this blindingly furious before in his life. If he were free and had a gun—if he had a knife, if he had a metal pipe, if he had his bare hands, he would do whatever he could to kill each and every one of the Nazi bastards and get Hogan free.

He hadn't noticed until then the blood trickling down his hands from where he'd rubbed the skin off of his wrists.

This round of shocks stopped. Skin smoking, Hogan breathed in jagged gasps.

"The location, sergeant."

Kinch barely moved his head in a 'no.'

Hogan raised his chin just as weakly. He seemed to be struggling to keep his gaze focused as he looked at looked up at Kinch. "James," he said in the loudest whisper he could manage.

"Rob." Kinch wasn't sure what else he could say. Maybe it was sinking in for Hogan just how helpless the the situation was. Maybe he had found the same bit of cold comfort Kinch had: they were going to die by each other's side, and they were going to go out giving old Adolf a black eye.

It was something. At least it was something.

There was a knock on the door. For a moment, the captain didn't take his eyes off of Hogan. It wasn't until the second knock that he jerked his head at the Nazi manning the batter, signaling him to open the door. Hogan and Kinch made eye contact. This could mean nothing. They couldn't let themselves even contemplate that it would mean escape, or even significant respite. Having even a second of hope dashed would be devastating.

The worst case scenario was that it was someone bearing the information that the operation had been scuppered. If all of this suffering had been for absolutely nothing…

They couldn't contemplate that either.

The best case was that the visitor was informing them that the bridge had been successfully blown to smithereens. That would mean that everything they had went through had been worth it. It would also mean that both of them would be shot immediately. At this point, though, Kinch was ready to accept that. They'd done all that they could—for years they'd done more than even their country could reasonably expect from them.

And, at least, at the very least, they would be dying together. Kinch couldn't think of anyone he'd rather die alongside than Robert Hogan.

When the door opened, a youngish German soldier stepped inside. "Herr Hauptsturmführer," he said with a salute. The captain nodded his acknowledgement. "There is a colonel here bringing important information about the sabotage attempt."

"What is his name?" the captain demanded.

"Oberst Altergott, mein Herr."

Kinch had to swallow the excitement that threatened to flash across his face. Altergott was Carter's mother's maiden name. They used it as a signal to each other, to let their comrades know that they were around. The other men from Barracks Five had found them. If their friends had gone looking for them, Kinch at least hoped that that meant the operation had gone off successfully. For the first time, he risked allowing himself at least a shade of hope that rescue was coming.

"What information?"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't told, mein Herr, but he demanded to see you specifically."

"Very well." He addressed his two lackeys. "Watch them. If I send word that any action is to be taken, it should be taken immediately."

"Yes, mein Herr," the other SS men chorused.

The piercing, utterly empty blue eyes of the captain fixed Kinch's like a pair of knives. "You will not leave this room alive, filthy Ami."

Kinch didn't respond. He didn't need to. Even if the monster was right, and Kinch and Hogan's days were up, those of his and his fellow scumbags were running low too.

The captain left with the young soldier. Kinch turned back to Hogan. "What do you think?" he asked in English.

"I don't know, but I've got a good feeling about it."

"Your good feelings have gotten us into trouble before."

"Quiet!" one of the Germans shouted.

Kinch ignored him. "Rob, if this doesn't end up so good…"

"It's been a wild ride ride." The words were casual, but the look in his eyes was not.

"I…"

The German jabbed the electrode into Hogan's neck. Hogan screamed and twisted as electricity coursed through him. Kinch dug his nails into his palms and bared his teeth.

 _God, let this be over. Whatever happens: let this be over._

He at least didn't worry about his words being cut off. Hogan knew everything that he had to say. He had never been closer to another man. There was no one else who understood him on the level that Rob did. There was no one else he had bared his soul to in that way. Wasn't dying by side of someone you loved supposed to be the best way to go?

When the electrode was pulled away, Hogan's gaze met Kinch's again, and in that moment, there no one else in the world. Nothing else mattered but Rob and the fact that James loved him with all of his heart.


End file.
